


The Absence of Apathy

by Embershift



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Incomplete and still in progress, M/M, Relationship(s), no plot things just happen lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-11 18:48:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5637976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Embershift/pseuds/Embershift
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is mortified after the sectumsempra incident. He visits Draco in the hospital wing and apologies, sparking a slow but mounting trust between them...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Human Being

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: Large sections of continuous italics signal the use of a direct quote from J.K Rowlings' Harry Potter books
> 
> Another note: This picks up RIGHT from the book. Consider re-reading the chapter "Sectumsepra" 
> 
> Lastly, feel free to tell me of any parts in need of editing

_And Snape left the bathroom without another word, leaving Harry to stare into the cracked mirror, feeling sicker, he was sure, than Ron had ever felt in his life._

_“I won’t say ‘I told you so,’ ” said Hermione, an hour later in the common room._

_“Leave it, Hermione,” said Ron angrily._

_Harry had never made it to dinner; he had no appetite at all. He had just finished telling Ron, Hermione, and Ginny what had happened, not that there seemed to have been much need. The news had travelled very fast: Apparently Moaning Myrtle had taken it upon herself to pop up in every bathroom in the castle to tell the story._

“Maybe you should, you know, apologise to Malfoy” said Ginny, breaking the silence that lay in the wake of his retelling. Hermione nodded enthusiastically in agreement.

A look of sheer exasperation overcame Ron’s face, “ _Apologise!_ ” Ron exclaimed, “Harry, after everything Malfoy’s done to us, he had it coming. His dad’s a death eater for Merlin’s sake! I’m just upset you can’t make the match.”

Harry didn’t respond to either of them, instead he stared determinedly at his knees. He was upset about missing the match too; If Gryffindor didn’t win they would lose first place to Slytherin, and he was upset that he’d have to spend hours with Snape in detentions, but worst of all was the guilt about Malfoy that racked his every thought.

That night as Harry lay in his four-poster, restlessly tossing and turning; the look of terror that passed over Malfoy’s face as his blood flooded the bathroom floor wormed its way into his mind. In that moment Malfoy was just a boy; a 16 year-old boy who, just like Harry has, looked death in the eye. He could have sworn that Malfoy’s life flashed through his fading eyes and every time Harry tried to close his own he remembered the look in Malfoy’s. He had seen that look before.

Eventually Harry drifted into a fitful sleep. He woke at the crack of dawn despite the lack of rest. For a brief moment he was ecstatic but memories of Malfoy and his detentions with Snape quickly replaced his brief cheerfulness with waves of guilt and anxiousness.

He had a few hours before the detention. Quietly, so as not to wake anyone; Harry slid out of bed and slipped on his robes and invisibility cloak and scruffily stuffed the marauders map and his wand in a pocket. He crept through the common room where a seventh year seemed to be asleep on a pile of Potion books and gingerly pushed open the frame. The Fat Lady stirred slightly but otherwise, Harry’s departure remained unnoticed.

Without thinking twice, he headed towards the hospital wing, taking only a few detours to avoid Filch and some early risen students wandering the halls. Just outside the doors he checked the marauders map: Madame Pomfrey was in her chambers, most likely still asleep and there, on one of the tiny drawn beds was a little spot labelled _Draco Malfoy_.

After putting the map away and checking that all parts of him were still cloaked, he pushed the door open an infinitesimal amount, just enough to peek in. Malfoy lay fast asleep in a bed against the far wall. Harry was careful not to make any noise as he pushed the door open and made his way to one of the chairs that sat near the edge of Malfoys bed. The scent of the room was that of Wound-Cleaning potion as per usual but another painfully familiar scent was present; He couldn’t quite place it.

The sight of Malfoy made Harry wince, he was exceptionally pale (more so than usual) and shivering. A soaked cloth lay diagonally across his bare chest and left a small amount of the wound peaking out at the lower end. Although no longer bleeding, Harry glimpsed the puffy, raw skin as he sat down; it looked thin enough to break at a touch. The scent, Harry realised, was that of Murtlap Essence: the half-empty bottle of which lay on the table next to the bed along with what might have been Dreamless Sleep.

As he sat he noted Malfoy had a slight frame, and was almost as dangerously skinny as he was. He supposed that he must hide it well under his expensive robes and haughty posture, but now Malfoy shared an astonishing resemblance to… a _human being._

 _I didn’t mean to, I didn’t know, It was stupid, I’m sorry,_ he kept repeating in his mind, but even if Malfoy were awake Harry doubted he’d be able to bring himself to say any of those things out loud.

He certainly didn’t _like_ Malfoy, but he didn’t want to _murder_ him.

He sat there letting guilt and… _anger_ roll over him for what felt like hours. Anger because Ron was right, this was Malfoy and he deserved this pain. Didn’t he?

 _What am I_ doing _here?_ He thought.

He sat there lost in his own head until Malfoy began to stir, a sign it was time to leave.


	2. Lake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some brooding, some lake, some pathetic fallacy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Massive part from the sixth book here. Read with knowledge that the first half of this chapter is J.K. Rowlings words with tweaks, additions and cuts from me.

_There were Slytherin taunts to be endured all morning, not to mention much anger from fellow Gryffindors, who were most unhappy that their Captain had got himself banned from the final match of the season. Harry would have gladly exchanged all the Felix Felicis in the world to be walking down to the Quidditch pitch with Ron, Hermione, and the others. It was almost unbearable to turn away from the mass of students streaming out into the sunshine, all of them wearing rosettes and hats and brandishing banners and scarves, to descend the stone steps into the dungeons and walk until the distant sounds of the crowd were quite obliterated, knowing that he would not be able to hear a word of commentary or a cheer or groan._

_“Ah, Potter,” said Snape, when Harry had knocked on his door and entered the unpleasantly familiar office that Snape, despite teaching floors above now, had not vacated; it was as dimly lit as ever and the same slimy dead objects were suspended in coloured potions all around the walls. Ominously, there were many cob- webbed boxes piled on a table where Harry was clearly supposed to sit; they had an aura of tedious, hard, and pointless work about them._

_“Mr. Filch has been looking for someone to clear out these old files,” said Snape softly. “They are the records of other Hogwarts wrongdoers and their punishments. Where the ink has grown faint, or the cards have suffered damage from mice, we would like you to copy out the crimes and punishments afresh and, making sure that they are in alphabetical order, replace them in the boxes. You will not use magic.”_

_“Right, Professor,” said Harry, with as much contempt as he could put into the last three syllables._

_“I thought you could start,” said Snape, a malicious smile on his lips, “with boxes one thousand and twelve to one thousand and fifty-six. You will find some recognisable names in there, which should add interest to the task. Here, you see . . .”_

_He pulled out a card from one of the topmost boxes with a flourish and read, “‘James Potter and Sirius Black. Apprehended using an illegal hex upon Bertram Aubrey. Aubrey’s head twice normal size. Double detention.’” Snape sneered. “It must be such a comfort to think that, though they are gone, a record of their great achievements remains. . . .”_

_Harry felt the familiar boiling sensation in the pit of his stomach. Biting his tongue to prevent himself retaliating, he sat down in front of the boxes and pulled one toward him._

_It was, as Harry had anticipated, useless, boring work, punctuated (as Snape had clearly planned) with the regular jolt in the stomach that meant he had just read his father or Sirius’s names, usually coupled together in various petty misdeeds, occasionally accompanied by those of Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. And while he copied out all their various offenses and punishments, he wondered what was going on outside, where the match would have just started._

_Harry glanced again and again at the large clock ticking on the wall. It seemed to be moving half as fast as a regular clock; perhaps Snape had bewitched it to go extra slowly? He could not have been here for only half an hour . . . an hour . . . an hour and a half. . . ._

_Harry’s stomach started rumbling when the clock showed half past twelve. Snape, who had not spoken at all since setting Harry his task, finally looked up at ten past one._

_“I think that will do,” he said coldly. “Mark the place you have reached. You will continue at ten o’clock next Saturday.” After an icy smirk he added “Maybe you’ll one day learn not to attempt murdering other students, Potter.”_

_Harry felt waves of guilt and anger squash the air out of his lungs. The injustice of it sent him reeling. He forced out an uneven “Yes, sir.”_

_He stuffed a bent card into the box at random and hurried out of the door before Snape could say anything more._

_He hesitated outside the crowded Great Hall, then made his way up the marble staircase; whether Gryffindor had won or lost, the team usually celebrated or commiserated in their own common room._

_“Quid agis?” he said tentatively to the Fat Lady, wondering what he would find inside._

_Her expression was unreadable as she replied, “You’ll see.”_

_And she swung forward._

_A roar of celebration erupted from the hole behind her. Harry gaped as people began to scream at the sight of him; several hands pulled him into the room._

_“We won!” yelled Ron, bounding into sight and brandishing the silver Cup at Harry. “We won! Four hundred and fifty to a hundred and forty! We won!”_

_Harry looked around;_ smiling faces were everywhere, an ecstatic Ginny barrelled towards him for a tight hug, and then Ron too.

He was unquestionably happy that Gryffindor had won but there still lay a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach. The fact that Harry hadn’t even been at the match didn’t help up his enthusiasm level.

He tried to stay for the celebrations, tried to forget everything else, but ended up sneaking to the dorms, collecting his cloak and slipping out the portrait hole after only an hour.

The lake would be a nice place to sit and think, so the lake he went. There were some fourth years wandering about by the tree Harry wanted to sit under but not a moment after he saw them they began to scurry towards the castle, having glimpsed the greying skies.

He plopped himself down, resting his back against the tree trunk just as he remembered Lupin had done in Snapes’ pensive.

The giant squid didn’t seem to be about, it was probably asleep, or maybe it just didn’t want to be anywhere near Harry.

Despite the lake view, he stared at the ground. This wasn’t the first time he felt responsible for harm or death. In fact, the prophecy had said plain and clear, it was _his_ duty to take care of Voldemort. Every dementor attack, every person killed, every second Voldemort breathed weighed in his conscience. Then there was Cedric… ‘ _Both of us’_ Harry had insisted, ‘ _On three…’_

And there was _Sirius_.

Dumbledore had warned Harry but he ignored his lessons with Snape anyway. All of them Harry felt responsible for but none of them had he actually cast the spell that ended their life. That was what had almost happened with Malfoy.

Really, he shouldn’t be feeling this remorseful about what had happened in the bathroom. After all, he and Malfoy have been landing each other in the hospital wing for years and it’s not like Harry knew the spell would do… _that_ , and to top it off, he wouldn’t have used it at all had Malfoy not begun to cast an _unforgivable!_ He had definitely begun to cast the Cruciatus curse… hadn’t he? _Hadn’t he?_ Thinking back on it, Harry wasn’t sure anymore, if anyone could tell you from experience that people so often hear what they want to hear rather than the truth: it was him.

It was Malfoy’s tear-streaked face and trembling words in Myrtles bathroom that made Harry think.

_“No one can help me, I can’t do it. . . . I can’t. . . . It won’t work . . . and unless I do it soon . . . he says he’ll kill me. . . .”_ The only person genuinely threatening to kill Malfoy would be Voldemort. Voldemort was forcing him to do something - something impossible by the sounds of it. It suddenly occurred to Harry that he hadn’t seen Malfoy’s forearm all year.

Just then the sky blackened even further and with a flash and a bang of thunder it began to rain.

Harry ran back to the castle and narrowly avoided getting thoroughly soaked. As he passed the great hall a rumble emanated from his stomach and he realised he hadn’t eaten a single thing all day. Lunch had finished though and the nearest food would be in the common room with the celebrations. Hopefully they would have calmed down somewhat by now; maybe he could sneak out some food without being noticed.

 

 


	3. Pie and an Apology

At a glance, the common room still had a few partygoers but more importantly: two mince pies sitting on a tray. As soon as he caught sight of what was left of the food however, Ginny appeared and seized him by the arm, dragging him towards a quiet corner.

“Ginny!” he objected. Once out of earshot (and out of pieshot) she stopped and turned towards him in a huff. Harry couldn’t tell whether she was angry or upset.

“Where have you been?” she demanded quietly.

She looked him dead in the eye as he replied truthfully “I was sitting by the lake” and for a split second he wondered if she somehow knew he’d visited Malfoy that morning but the suspicion vanished as he remembered it was Ginny who suggested he apologise in the first place, she wouldn’t be enraged by his visit if she knew.

With a sigh she looked away for a moment and then down at her feet “Harry,” she said, looking back up “You left halfway through the celebrations. I can tell there’s something wrong. I thought you were getting better but you’ve been acting like this ever since yesterdays incident with Malfoy.”

Harry realised she was neither angry nor upset, but concerned.

“I know you have a tendency to blame yourself and feel responsible for just about everything ever,” she continued. Harry couldn’t keep the guilt off his face at the truth of her words. “But you and Malfoy have injured each other so many times before, why are you beating yourself up about it this time? He’s done plenty wrong to you.”

Now it was Harry’s turn to look away. He wanted to confide in her, but at the same time, not to tell her what Malfoy had really been doing in the bathroom. There were over-stuffed armchairs against the wall they were standing near and he sat in one. Ginny followed, pulling the other chair around to sit opposite him.

They were silent for a moment and then Harry said, “You weren’t there Gin, the spell, it- there was so much blood.” His hunger seemed to shrink away at the thought. He paused and took a shuddering breath. “He almost died. The look in his eyes, it reminded me of-” Harrys throat abruptly tightened and his eyes burnt.

A look of understanding passed over Ginny as she said gently, “I didn’t know it was that bad Harry. It was more than just a cut then?” Harry nodded slowly. Ginny sat quiet for a moment, seemingly deep in thought.

“You didn’t kill him, Harry, he’ll be fine.” ‘Fine’ was said somehow both reassuringly and disappointedly. Harry took to his usual response, staring at his knees.

Ginny sighed, “How can we fix this then?”

Harry looked up in confusion and saw the sincerity in her eyes, “I don’t know,” he admitted.

Ginny pursed her lips, “I said it yesterday and I meant it; apologise to him. Go to the hospital wing and apologise. Explain it was an accident. Even if he doesn’t accept at least you’ve tried, right?” her eyes darted away for a moment before she added “I’d probably take his wand off him somehow first though… just a suggestion”

Harry knew what he had to do, but hearing someone else say it made it easier to come to terms with. _Apologising to Malfoy._ For a second he felt like laughing, it sounded ridiculous. His stomach rumbled again and Ginny’s eyebrows shot up

“Merlin, Harry, eat something!”

 

-

 

After devouring the two mince pies, Harry collected the cloak and map, checked that the hospital wing was without visitors or other patients and headed off again. This time, however, he would do something other than loiter and stare.

Just outside the doors he checked the map to make sure Malfoy was still alone. It was 10 to 4 and Harry knew from experience that dinner was given to patients at five o’clock, so he had plenty of time before Pomfrey came out of her office chambers.

Repeating the steps he had taken that morning, he peeked through the door. Malfoy was awake and seemed to be deeply involved in a potions textbook. He no longer had the soaked cloth across his chest, instead it lay bare: puffy tissue red and raw and open. Harry stealthily made his way in.

He saw Malfoys wand on the side table and padded over to it, tenderly picking it up and putting it in his pocket, careful not to distract Malfoy from his book. Next he needed a way to stop anyone from overhearing them. He recalled a spell from the Prince, pointed his wand at Pomfreys door and whispered as quietly as he could,

“ _Muffliato_ ”

Not quietly enough though as Malfoys head darted up and his hand shot towards the side table where it patted around frantically unable to find the wand. Harrys heart beat quickened, he thought he better say something, _now_.

“Malfoy, I’m not here to attack you,” he said calmly as he pulled the cloak off.

Malfoy scowled with impressive ferocity “Potter,” he spat “ _give me my wand back._ ” Harry suddenly doubted his plan… He hadn’t fully considered that taking another wizards wand is pretty much an attack in and of itself.

“Er… just listen to what I have to say first.” he said tentatively.

Apparently that wasn’t going to happen. “HELP! HELP! POTTER IS TRYING TO KILL ME AGAIN!” Malfoy screamed. The Muffliato charm seemed to be quite effective because there was no response. The screams still infuriated him and he was tempted to jinx Malfoys sorry little face into a mouldy- _no,_ that’s not what he was here for. He took a deep breath and tried to maintain a calm disposition.

After a moment of silence in which Malfoy stared at Pomfreys door, obviously expecting her to burst through any second, Harry tried to speak again, “There’s no point yelling. If you’d just give me a chance to explain-”

“HELP! HELP!” Malfoy continued incessantly.

“ _Malfoy, for heavens sake shut up or ill snap your wand like a twig_ ” Harry extracted Malfoys wand and held it with both of his hands, as if about to break it. A look of horror came over Malfoy and his mouth snapped shut into a gruesome snarl. This was not at all going according to plan, but then again he wasn’t really sure what he expected.

Harry took a deep breath and continued, “I came here to _try_ and apologise to you,” at that Malfoys’ eyebrows shot so far up his forehead they might have gotten tangled in his white hair, but he remained silent.

Harry blundered on before he could change his mind, “I didn’t know that spell would do what it did,” said Harry “I thought you were about to use an unforgivable on me and I used it without thinking, I’m sorry… Draco.”

Malfoy looked flabbergasted beyond measure. This satisfied Harry. _Malfoy, lost for words._ He had to resist from smiling to himself. In that moment Malfoy seemed to notice that he was half naked and pulled the blanket up over himself self-consciously. Harry looked down at the wand in his hands, “and uh… I’m sorry for taking your wand… and… you know, threatening to break it” he ceased the threatening pose and let go of the wand with one hand, holding it awkwardly and loosely by his side.

After what felt like a very long silence, Malfoy replied steadily, “give me back my wand and ill consider your apology.”

Harry was incredulous at the proposition, as if he would believe that! As soon as he gives Malfoy back his wand he’d be showered with jinxes and curses.

But then Harry realised that taking an injured and alone wizards wand doesn’t make for a very sincere apology. Maybe Malfoy _would_ curse him as soon as he got his wand back, but maybe Harry should have expected that, and maybe, just _maybe_ Harry deserved whatever he would get.

Malfoy looked unsurprised at Harry’s initial incredulity but as Harry approached him his eyebrows once again threatened to lose themselves in his hairline.

He approached the bed and held the wand out by its tip, the handle facing Malfoy. Obviously Malfoy thought this was far too good to be true and rather than snatch the wand up like Harry thought he would, he hesitated and then carefully took it.

Harry took a step backwards and shut his eyes tightly, preparing for whatever nasty things Malfoy would do, but no jinxes or curses or spells of any kind were cast. After a moment Harry opened his eyes to find Malfoy staring at him in bewilderment, wand in hand lying loosely on the bed beside him. He realised that returning the wand must have seemed like an act of trust and furthermore, an act that validated all his claims of sincerity.

A long silence followed in which eye contact was maintained; words weren’t needed for Malfoy to communicate his genuine surprise and appreciation. After a few more seconds the brief moment they were sharing quickly became far too intimate and both he and Harry looked away abruptly.

Malfoy spoke, “I assume you’ve gone ahead and told all your _fans_ about how you found me…” he cringed “crying in a bathroom.”

“No,” Harry looked back at him “I didn’t tell anyone that actually”. He heard an unperceivably quiet mumble in return, to which he said “What?”

Louder this time, Malfoy said “Thanks, Potter”

This was all very odd, Harry supposed. Apologies, trust and thanks between two enemies. Harry felt suddenly compelled to say something about what he’d heard Malfoy sob in the bathroom and without really thinking he blurted, “You know, Dumbledore can protect you, Dumbledore _can_ help you, you don’t have to be controlled by Voldemort”

Malfoy’s eyes flashed with fear… or was it hope? He pointed his wand at Harry now and with gritted teeth he said, “I accepted your apology. Now _get out_ ”. A vein had started to throb in his temple.

Harry wanted to say more, to tell him that its not impossible to change sides, but he knew there was only so much you could push someone at once.

So Harry left.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will post another chapter in about a week :)


	4. Locked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Section of italics signals extract from J.K Rowlings' "The Half-Blood Prince"

_Hermione proposed a possible identity behind the Half-Blood Prince the following day: Eileen Prince, a simultaneously cross and sullen looking girl of around 15, with heavy brows and a long, pallid face. Harry doubted she was the masterful mind behind his book._

_He had not dared to return to the Room of Requirement to retrieve it yet, and his performance in Potions was suffering accordingly._

_“You don’t think I’m mad, wanting that book back, do you?”_

_“ ’Course not,” said Ron robustly. “He was a genius, the Prince. Anyway . . . without his bezoar tip . . .” He drew his finger significantly across his own throat. “I wouldn’t be here to discuss it, would I? I mean, I’m not saying that spell you used on Malfoy was great —”_

_“Nor am I,” said Harry quickly, trying to suppress his sudden nausea._

_“But he healed all right, didn’t he? Back on his feet in no time.” “Yeah,” said Harry; this was perfectly true, although his conscience squirmed “Thanks to Snape . . .”_

 

-

 

One thing Harry was sure of; Draco Malfoy was capable of changing sides and Harry would be the one to make him. He didn’t know what was compelling him to help Malfoy but whatever it was, it was stopping at nothing. He had no idea how he could possibly turn the sodding bigot to the light but something told him that Malfoy needed… compassion. He knew it sounded ridiculous, but he understood what it was like to need just the slightest humanity and he knew that even the smallest of kind acts could change a person’s allegiance; after all, it was Hagrid who first ever treated Harry with even an ounce of dignity, and it was because a slimy Slytherin boy in Madame Malkin’s insulted Hagrid that Harry begged the hat to sort him Gryffindor.

Harry heard that Malfoy had been fully healed and released from the hospital wing earlier that day but had yet to see him: that was until, using the map, he learned that Malfoy was in the library. To which he headed straightaway. He didn’t realise that it was late, _very_ late, 20 minutes until curfew to be exact…

As he approached the library he whipped out the marauders map again and made his way to Malfoy. There, on the floor in a corner of the library filled with stale books on moonstones and wolfsbane that could only be interesting to Hermione, sat healed and mobile Draco Malfoy with his face buried in a book.

_‘No one can help me’_ Harry remembered as he glanced at him. He stopped at the edge of the isle, caught in a moment of indecision, thinking perhaps he would walk away after this not with new fulfilment but a loss of limb. He came to a resolution quickly though, and continued forward towards Malfoy. It took a while before he reached the end of the row: they were long rows. As he got closer he made sure to drag his feet slightly on the carpet so as not to go unnoticed. Malfoy looked up from his book and scowled at the sight of Harry striding towards him.

“What do you want, Potter?” he spat, just as Harry turned to face the books on Potion ingredients.

Harry feigned surprise and snapped his head around to look at him “Well,” he said “to research for my potions essay on Moonstones, of course… this is where the books on magical ingredients are, and this is the Moonstone section…” Malfoy opened his mouth and closed it again, suddenly looking embarrassed.

“But now that you ask,” Harry went on brazenly “I could definitely use some help on this potions essay from someone who’s actually good at potions theory” this was followed by the sound of Madame Pince shushing from somewhere across the library.

Again, Malfoy gaped and then let out a strange sort of laugh or puff of air, “What in the name of Merlin has gotten into you lately, Potter?” he said. “Apologising to me, giving me opportunities to jinx you and now expecting pleasantries?” another, slightly more violent shush from Madame Pince followed.

“Who said anything about pleasantries for the sake of pleasantries? Wouldn’t some collaboration be mutually beneficial?” Harry may have been a Gryffindor, but he understood how Slytherins’ thought. There was a short pause where Malfoy seemed to be trying to wrap his head around the situation.

“But- but we hate each other!” He squealed.

Squealing in the library was, as expected, even less tolerable than speaking and before Harry could answer, Madame Pince huffed loudly from somewhere and the thumping of her feet as she made her way towards them ensued.

Both he and Malfoy knew full well what would happen if they were caught by the fierce librarian. Their eyes widened and met for a split second, communicating a non-verbal panic before Malfoy dropped the book, and sprang to his feet just as Harry shoved his own hastily back on the shelf. The footsteps were coming from the direction in which Harry had entered the isle so he and Malfoy had no other choice but to sprint the opposite way, down the isle.

Madame Pince would surely be looking down each row as she walked towards the far one that they were in and Harry knew she would spot them if they simply turned once they hit the wall and ran along the back of the library across the very isles she’d be looking down. So it was when they reached the end of the row that Harry seized Malfoys arm and flung him against the side of the shelves. Malfoy was on the verge of protest so Harry, standing opposite him, clamped a hand on Malfoys mouth and put a finger to his own, asserting a pointed _shhhh._ If Malfoy was caught, Harry had no doubt the ferret would feel no hesitation in ratting him out.

He could feel Malfoys breath on the back of his hand.

The thud of angry footsteps on carpet made its way closer and closer. Harry was sure that she would be at the edge of the library now, looking down the isle they had just escaped. He was right: the footsteps stopped.

She would see nothing but empty rows and she’d have to turn back and- _the book!_ It was still lying on the floor where Malfoy dropped it. Harry’s eyes widened and he stared at Malfoy, he was met with a confused glare. Malfoy reached up and roughly prised Harry’s hand off his mouth.

_What is it?_ He mouthed.

_The book._ Harry mouthed back.

As if on cue, the footsteps started again. Harry grasped Malfoys elbow and pulled him a fair few rows down and around into yet another isle where he stopped and listened to the footsteps.

Malfoy was trying to drag him further along but Harry knew it would get them caught. The footsteps were getting closer. Malfoy was insistent that they try to make a break for it to the point that his tugging was painful, so Harry -for a second time- grabbed his shoulders and slammed him against the bookshelf as quietly as it is humanly possible to slam someone against a bookshelf. Malfoy saw it coming and didn’t resist.

The footsteps were very close indeed now, _thud thud thud thud,_ closer and closer until she must have been just where the book was dropped.

Then, the footsteps stopped once again. Harry could hear Madame Pince’s knees click as she reached down and picked up the neglected book. He couldn’t help but feel as if they were being hunted like prey.

He heard her put it carefully back on the shelf and he jumped as she spoke loudly in the still library, “I know you children are in here!”

Harry realised that Malfoy was pushing at Harry’s chest, he had been squeezing Malfoys shoulders tight enough to bruise him. He immediately let go but kept a firm grip on Malfoys elbow.

After a moment of silence, Madame Pince continued, “for goodness sake show yourselves and I might be lenient with your punishments!”

Neither boys even considered surrendering and despite everything, they snickered a little from the adrenalin rush of a chase.

“Nobody here? I suppose that means I can lock the library up for tonight then?” Harry could hear the sneer behind her words.

He and Malfoys snickers turned to pained looks. After a moment her footsteps started again, Harry listened to whether she was heading back up the way she came or taking the direction Harry and Malfoy had. It sounded as if she was going back. He thought for a fleeting moment that if they timed it perfectly they might be able to escape before she made it to library’s exit but his hopes were shattered as a gust of wind passed through the massive room and he heard the massive doors bang shut.

Both boys knew what had happened: Madame Pince had locked the exit from a distance somehow. A moment later they felt another gust of wind in the opposite direction and heard a click, a heavy door opening and then a third gust of wind. The door banged shut for the last time.

There was a second of tense silence and then Malfoy whimpered “Oh no… oh no, no, no, I can’t be locked in here all night!” which was followed by more “no no no’s” and then Malfoy bolted off towards the heavy wooden doors. Harry followed him, after all, he didn’t want Malfoy to be getting out and somehow leaving Harry trapped.

After a few minutes of desperate _alohamora_ ’s Harry had given up, Malfoy kept at it though.

What had he gotten himself into? Would he have to spend the rest of his life in here with _Malfoy?_ He had wanted to settle their endless feud, yes and maybe satisfy his relentless obsession… but he hadn’t expected them to get locked in the same room with each other for however long.

It was almost as if fate had a way of twisting Harry into all sorts of things and a part of him flashed with anger at the thought. _Fate._

Harry stood there, pensive for a moment and staring vaguely at Malfoy casting unsuccessful spells at the unmoving door one after the other in rapid succession. It then occurred to him that there may be a hidden passage from the library depicted on the marauders map, he’d never bothered to look for one before. Harry didn’t want to show Malfoy the map though; he’d have to create a slight diversion.

“Malfoy, stop it, this isn’t working.” He said, which was true. Malfoy stopped casting and turned to harry, his face was distraught and he showed all the signs of being very, very frustrated. “Listen, we’re in a library right? There has to be a book on how Pince’s spell can be undone somewhere.” There it was, a helpful concurrence; he could get away from Malfoy to check the map _and_ get the ferret boy to begin researching alternative ways out of here if there proved to be no hidden passage.

Malfoy looked as though he would argue for a moment and Harry was ready for a _This is all your fault, scarhead_ or a; _if it weren’t for you we wouldn’t be here in the first place_ but was surprised when instead he got a sharp nod and Malfoy pushed pass him towards a desk on which lay a library directory.

After a glance at the sheet, Malfoy pointed to an isle not far from where they stood and said, “start checking the section _traps, locks and guises_ in that isle.” Harry was surprised at Malfoys efficiency and came to the conclusion that he must spend almost as much time in the library as Hermione. “I’m going to check _childcare_ ”. Harry gave him a quizzical look and Malfoy simply stated he had a hunch.

Harry didn’t question him and walked to the isle Malfoy had indicated. He assumed that the libraries _childcare_ section and _traps, locks and guises_ section would be a fair distance apart. Even so, he peaked over his shoulder just before he turned the corner and watched as Malfoy made his way into a distant row.

Harry turned and padded down the rows of books, examining each little engraved golden plate as he passed until he reached one that read _traps, locks and guises._ Instead of taking out a book, however, he took one last glance down the isle and whipped out the marauders map. Touching his wand to the paper he whispered, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good” as quietly as he could.

He checked every inch of ink around the library and checked again, it seems the marauders knew not a single passage to or fro the library aside the main door. He should have known there wouldn’t be a passage out with fate like his.

He put the map away and got to work finding a locking spell that could be used from considerable distance and caused gusts of wind. It wasn’t fifteen minutes before Harry pinpointed the only spell remotely similar to what Pince might have used and its nature baffled him. He snapped the book shut, placed it back on the shelf and dashed down the isle, eager to share the information with Malfoy.

It was then that the aforementioned, gripping a book, bolted around the corner just as Harry approached. Harry was able to stick his arms out in front of his body just a fraction of a second before impact and narrowly avoided violently concussing himself as they smacked into each other. They both stumbled backwards and Malfoy landed on his backside with a _thud_. Harry let out an “Agh!” and only just managed not to tumble over as well.

After a flustered moment in which they were both slightly stunned Harry realised his surroundings were blurred. On impact his glasses must have flown straight off his head.

Even without them Harry could see Malfoy scrambling to his feet and rubbing his backside “Bloody hell Potter watch where you’re going!” he exclaimed. How typical, that he would find someone to blame for what was clearly no ones fault, Harry knew he should have expected nothing more.

He sighed and said patiently, “Malfoy, it was an accident”. Again, even without his glasses Harry could tell Malfoy was rapidly falling into a sort of pit of petulance. “Just help me find my glasses will you?” he said, before the idiot could snap anything back.

Malfoy considered him for a second and then -surprisingly- began to scan the floor. After a moment and before Harry could even attempt to help, Malfoy’s wand was out and he was muttering an “ _Accio”_ as something flew past Harry and into his hands.

From what he could make out, Malfoy opened the glasses, un-tucked the shirt under his robes and used it to rub the lenses clean. “Hold still.” he said and Harry held very still indeed as Malfoy stepped forward and carefully slid the glasses back on his face. His vision was restored instantly and he stared at newly unblurred grey eyes in bewilderment.

After making sure the glasses were settled properly on his ears Malfoys hands dropped back to his side awkwardly. This was the second time Malfoy had surprised him with a sudden burst of unrecognisable kindness. He supposed that this may have been on-par with his own uncharacteristic treatment towards Malfoy of late but even so, Harry stood: speechless and unable to move, staring at Malfoy intensely for quite a few seconds. Malfoy seemed to realise how odd their very brief interaction was and his pale face went from white to pink to scarlet in a matter of seconds.

Harry’s own face followed suit and he coughed uncomfortably. “Err, thanks” he said. Malfoy looked vaguely mortified and Harry hastily raked his brain for what it was they were actually doing. “Oh yes, err I found the- I found out about the spell I think Pince used.” Harry said.

Malfoys eyes shot sideways for a moment as if he too had almost forgotten what they were doing. “Oh! Yes good, I- yes well I was just coming to tell you that I might also have some information. What did you find?”

“Its actually a shutting charm that can be used to shut doors from afar, the door technically doesn’t ‘lock’ but as long as the witch or wizard maintains a pointed wand the door or doors stay shut. Its like holding a door closed rather than locking it, as soon as she walked away we should have been able to leave.” Malfoy seemed unsurprised at this information.

“I thought it would be something like that.” He said, “I remember this spell that my-” he stopped suddenly, swallowed and then continued “that some families use on their children’s rooms. It’s a locking spell that only breaks after an amount of time. It’s good for… you know, time-out punishments or whatever. It has no counter-spell but according to…” Malfoy spun around and spotted the book he had been holding previously, picked it up, flipped through it for a moment and found the page he was looking for, then continued “according to this: the amount of time is set by the caster and can be set to a maximum of seven hours.” He looked back up, “Did you hear her cast anything after she left?”

Harry thought back and only remembered hearing a soft click as they locked. “No, I only heard the click of the lock.”

Malfoys face dropped somewhat but he looked unsurprised “If we had heard the spells wording we would be able to figure out when the doors unlock. Until then I don’t think there’s any way past the spell.” He said solemnly.

Harry dropped his head into his hands and rubbed his face “Well, I guess we can assume she’s set it for the whole seven. She did say she wanted us to spend the night in here. That makes it about six in the morning before we can get out, which means at least we’ll be able to make it out before she gets here tomorrow and really catches us.”

_Fate_.


	5. Library

The only surfaces really suitable for sleeping on were a set of plush green couches. They were against a wall and right next to each other. There was a small table near them too and a couple sets of matching green armchairs around it. Harry didn’t even bother trying to move the couches further apart; they looked incredibly heavy, he was exhausted and Malfoy seemed to be somewhat tolerable, or at least not so intolerable that Harry would need to go to so much effort just to sleep a few extra feet away. The couches were large and comfortable though and long enough that they had length to spare.

So it was on these that both Harry and Malfoy collapsed. Malfoy waved his wand and all the candles in the library went out - all except for one, which floated dimly near them and just barely lit the surrounding floor. Moonlight shone through the small circular windows that sat high in the walls

Despite his exhaustion and the comfortable couch, Harry found he was unable to sleep. He tossed and turned but to no avail. Malfoy’s discontent was clear too as, even when Harry wasn’t shuffling; fabric rustled and agitated the still air. It was clear that neither of them would be falling asleep.

It eventually occurred to Harry that perhaps fate had not done away with him this time. Perhaps fate was working… in his favour. This moment would be perfect for continuing his ‘compassion theory’ wouldn’t it? Dumbledore really has rubbed off on him.

So he said the first thing that came to his mind, “I can’t sleep either.”

The rustling fabrics stopped, Harry assumed Malfoy had once again been slightly shocked by his attempt to pleasantly socialise. It was a moment before he was given a response.

“What has changed, Potter?”

Harry was taken aback by the question “Err… pardon?” he said unsurely.

“Why did you apologise to me in the hospital wing? Why didn’t you jump at the chance to tell everyone you found me crying? Why did you ask me for help with your homework? _Why are you trying to talk to me right now like I’m just another friendly student you haven’t hated for six years?”_ Malfoy asked all these questions very fast and in quick succession. It took Harry a minute to gather himself.

“In case you were un-aware: I'm part of a war, some would say leading an army. I’ve had to grow up quite a lot and quite quickly,” Harry said. “I'm not incapable of growth or maturity you know.” He couldn’t see Malfoys face, so he had no clue as to what effect his mention of the ensuing war was having on him. Instead he could hear Malfoy breathing out slowly.

As expected, he was met with a measure of hostility and suspicion. “Why now? Did Dumbledore put you up to this? Are you trying to weasel information out of me?”

“No. Dumbledore didn’t put me up to this.” (Malfoy scoffed at that) “I know you think I, along with many, am a mindless follower of his but I’m not. You don’t even know half the things I disagree with him on, the parts of him I question, the secrets he keeps even from me…” It was bold, Harry admitted, to let Malfoy know these things, to let him know about the cracks, but Harry knew it had to be done if he was to gain Malfoys trust. More so, Harry had to let Malfoy see -just as Harry had seen standing in the hospital wing- that he too was just a boy.

“Then,” Malfoy said “Are you telling me that you are you trying to gain what you turned down on the Hogwarts express six years ago?”

It took Harry a moment to understand, but it wasn’t long before the image of Malfoys outstretched hand came swimming into his mind.

_‘You’ll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don’t want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there.’_ Harry remembered and then quickly tried to un-remember. He supposed that Malfoy was referring to the offer of friendship rather than his bigotry.

“If you want it put that way Malfoy, then yes.” He answered simply. Even though Harry couldn’t see his face, he couldn’t help but feel that there was something in the way Malfoy had asked that told him he would be satisfied with the answer Harry had given.

“You baffle me, Potter, you’ve always baffled me.” He said, “Have you realised how odd this is?”

“I have, but I think its only just hitting _you_ now,” Harry liked that implying he’d already considered it made Malfoy’s mouth audibly smack shut. “And… I think,” he said, “you should try calling me Harry instead of Potter to start off” at that Malfoy scoffed.

“I never said I was accepting _you’re_ offer of friendship, _Potter_ ” Harry could tell this was said with a slight smirk though. Malfoy stood suddenly from the couch and waved his wand at a few candles in the area, which lit up. He walked to the nearest shelf and plucked up a book, then plopped himself into one of the green armchairs surrounding the small table nearby. Harry followed suit.

They sat in the Green chairs, opposite each other and with books in their hands. Neither of them were really reading though so it wasn’t long before some semblance of conversation cropped up. Albeit, rather forced if not slightly awkward conversation at first but after a considerable amount of time and well after the witching hour had passed, Harry couldn’t help but feel they were getting along quite well. He even thought once or twice that had they not had such political differences -or perhaps if only Draco were raised by a very different family- they would have been friends long ago.

Harry all but completely forgot he was talking to _Draco Malfoy_ , if that can make sense. They talked about all sorts of things, (with the exception of the war) as they occupied their respective chairs. They shared amusing tales and told jokes. He particularly liked the shocked expression on Dracos’ face every time Harry told him that a joke they had been laughing at was a muggle one. Harry mentioned Cho by accident at one point and after much insistence from Draco, he was coerced into divulging the entirety of his embarrassing crusade. Draco found his torment and embarrassment particularly amusing and his laughter was infectious, soon Harry was roaring and clutching at his stomach as well. It wasn’t long before Draco was also forced to give up embarrassing ‘first’ stories.

Harry realised he really quite liked Draco when he had him alone.

Their conversation sometimes took serious turns though. And Harry found that Draco was, understandably enough, very secretive of his childhood. However, he opened up a little after Harry told him about his own. It was difficult, but more so: it was odd. He never spoke about the Dursleys or his closet under the stairs to anyone, the truth being that once he was at Horwarts he would all but forget about it; there were so many more pressing issues. After describing said matter somewhat he found himself the victim of an immense level of incomprehension. He supposed that Draco, coming from a wealthy family of loving parents and large houses, had now short-circuited. This was fixed easily with the story of Dudley and the Brazilian snake.

Draco seemed to quite enjoy telling Harry about different wizarding traditions and customs that he had never heard of. Occasionally he shared a personal story too but as soon as the atmosphere darkened he would turn the conversation on its head with a joke. Harry couldn’t blame him for that, after all.

One particular story captured Harrys’ attention. It was about an old muggle gardener Dracos’ family had once employed (Apparently that was another custom adopted by the wealthy pure-bloods). Draco said that as a small child he’d befriended the gardener, too young to know why his parents would severely disagree. He said that he found it fascinating and bemusing that the man didn’t use any magic, but instead giant scissors and sometimes even loud machines to trim the plants. He would sit and watch and the muggle man would tell him the names of different flowers around the gardens. While the man was trimming the hedges one day, Draco accidentally startled him. The man had swung around and the massive scissors cut him.

His father was enraged; the old man was gone the next day and there lay a strange square grassless patch of dirt in the gardens instead.

After that, Harry re-considered his preconceptions of Dracos’ privileged childhood.

What was probably a very long time later they started to yawn and they agreed that sleep should be the next course of action. He and Draco collapsed on their couches, and like before, all but one candle went out.

He was tired but once again he didn’t fall asleep immediately. Instead, Harry lay contemplating their long conversation, uncannily similar taste in humour and odd childhoods (from what he gathered). Harry thought that that night, right there, was like a moment outside of space and time. Past differences and the outside world didn’t matter here, it was just two people, relating to each other, laughing… connecting. Harry found himself sad that the moment was coming to an end; soon they would have to leave. What would they do now? Chat in class? Smile at each other in the corridors?

“Goodnight, Harry” said a groggy voice.

Perhaps.

 

-

 

The morning after the library lock-in Harry and Draco had awoken to the sounds of the locks unclicking and had easily made their escape. They listlessly parted with awkward “Well… see ya” ‘s and made off for their common rooms.

It was lucky it was a Saturday: as soon as Harry arrived at his four poster, he collapsed without so much as taking off his robes or tucking himself in and slept well into the day.

He awoke just in time for lunch and hurried down to the great hall. He was so ravenous that he hardly noticed that almost all the Gryffindors kept glancing at him suspiciously. He sat himself down between Ron and Ginny and immediately helped himself to corned beef sandwiches, mashed potatoes and Yorkshire pudding. He managed to hoard a towering pile of food on his plate before Ginny elbowed him in the side.

“Ow! What-”

“Harry, where were you last night?” exploded Hermione, who sat opposite them.

Ron leaned over and whispered “She thought you’d been kidnapped, mate.”

“You really should warn us before you go running off. I couldn’t stop imagining the next Daily Prophet headline ‘ _Harry Potter disappears without a trace_ ’. The times we’re in now Harry! You can’t just wander off without warning!” Ginny burst.

This relentless questioning and scolding went on for a few more minutes and Harry couldn’t get a word in edgeways. Bombarded with question after question but not being given a single chance to answer any of them.

His eventual snap was inevitable, “IF YOU’D LET ME SPEAK!”

Hermione, Ron, Ginny and anyone else close by who had been talking whether it was to Harry or not, immediately quietened. “I was in the library after curfew and I got locked in. _That’s all!_ ”

Some of the anger and worry melted from Hermione’s face, “The library locks after curfew?” she asked, puzzled. Of course she, being Hermione, would never be out after hours and thus, wouldn’t know.

“Well no, not technically. I went up there to…” and this is where he trailed off just for a split second. His eyes had, without his consent, glanced across the hall right at the very Slytherin he was thinking of. Said Slytherin was already looking at him. He seemed to have been waiting for Harry to meet his eyes because as they did, Draco gave him a small but intense shake of the head. Within that split second, Harry gathered that Draco didn’t want his presence in the library, or the existence of their communication shared. Harry felt himself agree. It would be better that way; after all, Harry didn’t feel like being bombarded with even more questions.

His moment of hesitation didn’t go unnoticed. “…to research for the moonstone essay. I didn’t realise how late it was and when Pince realised there was someone still in the library she just ran out and locked the doors, her idea of punishment apparently. There was no way to get out until this morning.” He wasn’t technically lying, just not telling them _everything._ On second thought he added sincerely “Sorry I made you all worry”.

“Oh my God, an _entire night_ in the library…” Hermione said staring off into the distance, suddenly very far away and Harry had the feeling she was a tad jealous of his entrapment. She quickly snapped out of it though and he thought she might keep going with telling him off but instead she sighed and said quietly, so that only Harry, Ron and Ginny could hear, “Harry, I know you like to… disappear sometimes. I understand, it just worries us… worries everyone.” she gestured down the Gryffindor table “Anyone else mysteriously disappearing for one night wouldn’t be so alarming but… you’re you. Just- Just know that we’re all here for you, Harry.” she cringed after she said it; she knew Harry wouldn’t react well.

Harry could feel his ears turn slightly red. He had just told her he was forcibly locked in! His first instinct was to profusely deny that he needed any help and mutter that everything was fine. The bitterness melted after a moment and he realised that he couldn’t be annoyed by people caring about him, he realised that there was nothing better in the world than having people who cared this much.

So he mustered up the maturity he had boasted the previous night and said “Thanks Hermione.” It took her a moment to comprehend but she was pleasantly surprised and beamed at him, Ron and Ginny gave him a smack on the back and went back to eating and chatting.

Harry couldn’t help but glance at the Slytherin table occasionally and his gaze always wandered straight to Draco; who seemed to have only just looked away each time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so... yeah been gone for like two years turns out as soon as I feel even the slightest pressure to write I am incapable of doing so um please forgive me i dont know what to say other than thank you for the faith and all the hits and kudos!


	6. Room of Requirement

A relatively normal week went by. Normal except it lacked certain glares and hostile remarks from one Draco Malfoy. Instead, he and Harry would pass in crowded halls and nod ever so slightly to each other. Not enough that anyone would notice, it was so subtle that sometimes even Harry thought he’d imagined it. It doesn’t sound like much, but Harry recognised it as a massive leap in… _compassion_ for them both. It was astonishing how little it took for Harry to begin thinking Draco was a pretty okay (albeit still stuck up and infuriating) guy, considering their past… and what was surely their future. It was on the following Friday afternoon that they had another run in.

The circumstances of this particular incident were predictable; Harry thought he might have a DA meeting and naturally, _fate_ had him time it appallingly. He headed up to the seventh floor and made his usual walk past the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy but on his second passing he stopped. He had the charmed galleon in his hand and ready to use when he remembered the Princes’ potion book…

He recalled what he asked of the room when he was desperately trying to hide the book, put the coin back in his pocket and began to walk again, this time thinking very severely of a place to hide something. After three passes the door materialised before him.

After taking a moment to check the halls, Harry slipped inside. He was immediately met with the sound of a near-distant voice, which silenced abruptly as the door clicked shut behind him.

Someone was already here.

Harry thought this’d have to be someone from DA, how else would they have known about this room? Nevertheless Harry was alarmed and the hair on the back of his neck stood. He scanned what he could see of the room around him (which was very little with the columns of abandoned objects so close together), took out his wand and began to make his way towards the first junk-made alleyway. He had taken no more than a few steps before he heard “ _Expelliarmus_ ” and Harrys only defence slid straight out of his fingers.

He swung around to see his disarmer and there, holding one wand pointed straight at Harry, and Harry’s in an outstretched arm, stood Draco. He obviously knew his way around the place because he had emerged from an alleyway that, from the gaze of one standing near the door, appeared hidden. It was strategic and Harry knew immediately that unexpected visits were prepared for.

He and Draco stood staring at each other. Draco looked as though he was trying to swallow something dry and horrifying and Harry hadn’t the slightest inkling of what to do. He was too far away to even consider charging and something told Harry that, given the nature of Draco’s approach, his knowledge of this room sorely out did Harry’s and fleeing would be unwise. Instead Harry did the only thing that came naturally to him as a muggle-raised, TV watching boy: he raised his hands, pointing his palms towards Draco in a display of submission.

Draco was standing completely still, his wand pointed and the arm holding Harry’s wand still outstretched. He was breathing very hard. Draco’s hesitation lasted a long time and unsettled Harry greatly. He stared at Harry for a long time but would not make eye contact.

Harry’s mind was racing. How did he know about the room of requirement? What is he doing in here? Why does he look _terrified_ rather than angry?

“Harry,” he croaked “Oh Merlin.” He took a few more ragged breaths “Oh Merlin why did you come here, why are you making me do this.” Every word came out drier than the last. Draco swallowed.

At this point Harry became more scared than suspicious. “I- I’m not _making_ you _do_ anything, Draco. What are you talking about I’ll just leave and-”

“No!” he shouted, “You always walk into situations you don’t understand. I have to… You should never have come here… if anyone…” Draco tightened his grip on his pointed wand; his knuckles were growing whiter by the second.

Harrys eyes widened as he came to the understanding that Draco was not internally battling whether or not to _hurt_ Harry… but whether or not to _kill_ him. “Oh God, Draco. I won’t tell anyone you were here- just legilimens me! You can just make me forget-“

“I can’t! He’s in there, I can’t!” Draco screeched, his hand began to tremble.

_He’s in there_? What the hell did that mean?

“ _I can help you, Draco_ ”

They stood there for what felt like at least a few minutes as Dracos hand clenched and unclenched around his wand. It was almost sad watching Draco squirm and lose battle after battle with himself. After the tremble in his hand spread to the rest of his body Harry realised that Draco was incapable of murder and rapidly became more worried about _he’s in there_ than anything else until Draco spoke again.

“Blood-oath.”

It took a second for Harry to even process, “What?”

“ _Blood-oath_. Potter, you’ll take a blood-oath.” Harry couldn’t believe what Draco had just said.

“I’m not going to take a blood-oath are you mad!”

“You must!” Draco was becoming more and more frantic.

“Draco, you know as well as I do that a wizards oath has to be made willingly by both people!”

“I do know! That’s- that’s why…” Draco seemed to sink further into himself. The hand around his wand loosened and he finally let both arms droop to his sides. “That’s why I’m asking you.” He spoke faintly. Then Harry heard the sound of two lengths of wood clattering against the floor: Draco had let go of both wands, his arms hung limply at his sides and he stared directly at Harry. Out of all the things Draco had ever done, Harry had never been as frightened as he was now. The desperation and despair in Draco’s eyes stopped his heart and any words he had were gone.

Draco looked away from Harry and then took three steps back and waited. Harry moved forward cautiously at first, but as soon as he knew he was closer to the wands than Draco he charged and snatched them up. Draco made absolutely no attempt to stop him, he had handed Harry back his wand, an immense display of trust… not only Harry’s own wand though, Draco had surrendered his own too.

“Now you can do whatever you like. You can look at what I’ve been doing here and tell Dumbledore what you find.” Draco said, as he stared at his feet “You can even kill me if you like, no one would find my body in here and-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Harry cut him off “I’m not going to bloody kill you Draco! But what are you- why are you letting…”

“If you’re not going to kill me then we can make a deal” Harry was still disturbed but the idea of Draco attempting to pose a deal in this moment intrigued him “If you go down the path to my right, go straight and then take a right you will come to discover some of what I am trying to do, but not much, and certainly not enough to be able to draw accurate conclusions and tell your little friends. You can do that now if you like and if you do, he’ll… if you do, I will suffer the consequences of my own… inaction.” Draco looked at Harry for a moment, holding his breath, probably expecting him to shoot forward and off down the junk piled alley as soon as he finished his sentence, but Harry waited. “Or… or you can take the blood-oath with me, not to tell anyone that you found me here, not to tell anyone any of the information about the Dark Lords plans you get from me, not to directly get in my way…” He took a deep breath “to do everything in your power to protect me...”

“One of those options is looking a lot better than the other, Draco.”

Draco took a step closer but he was so distraught and un-menacing that Harry didn’t raise his wand. “If you take this oath, I’ll tell you everything.” He said, “You’ll be able to stop awful things Harry. You’ll finally have someone who has detailed information about the operations of the Dark Lord. I can tell you-”

“Draco stop.” Dracos mouth shut with a snap “The reason I’m still standing here is because you’ve completely baffled me. Just tell me what’s in this Oath deal for you, and what’s in it for me.”

Harry knew the Slytherin way. This had to be very beneficial to him somehow. Draco seemed to understand. He took another deep breath “What’s in it for you is inside knowledge and-“

“How do you know we don’t already have a spy?”

“Well Harry if you don’t know my mission and you don’t know what exactly it is I'm doing in here then either your spy is really _our_ spy, you don’t have one at all or you simply aren’t being told anything”

That resonated. Harry nodded slowly “Okay, fair enough. What else?”

“You’ll have- how to put this… captured an enemy” Harry raised an eyebrow, Draco continued, “you’ll have a prisoner of war and there will be one less person to fight when it comes the time. And you’ll be able to boss me around.”

Harry quite liked the sound of that. This was Draco offering… almost eagerly, to swap sides. Harry very much wanted that but he didn’t want it to come about this way. “And what’s in it for you Draco? Slytherins don’t make selfless sacrifices.”

“If you take this oath I want mine, and my family’s safety assured. As soon as he knows I’ve failed, he’ll come after my family. I want you and Dumbledore to protect us, even my Dad.”

Harry could tell that Draco was on a sort of roll. It also seemed as though even if Draco was poorly treated at times, he still cared about and loved his family beyond measure. That was more than Harry could say for the Dursleys and it sparked a pang of jealousy in him.

Thinking on what Draco had said, Harry was amused that some people seemed to think he was powerful enough -at least against Voldemort- to be seen in equal light with Dumbledore.

“I can’t do any of the things he wants me to.” Draco said, so quietly Harry strained to hear him. “I just want it to be over.” he added, even softer. And it was then that Harry realised that for the first time ever, Draco was being deeply sincere. It was that final display of sincerity that drove Harry to agree.

He slid both the wands into his robe. “Okay.” He said decisively. Draco looked up, understandably surprised enough that his eyebrows were once again escaping up his forehead (Harry was beginning to enjoy that expression). He took a few steps forward until they were face-to-face and said “err… you wouldn’t happen to have a knife would you? I mean, I don’t know much about blood oaths but I thought you had to…” Draco looked from Harrys eyes to his robe pocket and raised an eyebrow, Harry understood. He removed his own wand and went to remove Dracos to return it to him but Draco stopped him.

“No, I’d really rather you did each of us.” He said.

Harry grabbed Dracos left hand and lifted it palm up. He felt a sudden embarrassment at holding Dracos hand and almost ended up choking on his own spit violently. He cleared his throat “Sorry” he said gruffly. He held Dracos left hand in his own left and pointed his wand “err… I’m going to have to use…”

“Yes, the spell you used in the bathroom. I remember what it does, obviously.”

“Ah, yep.” Harry grimaced. Draco drew a sharp breath as Harry traced a line across his palm, then he released Dracos hand and lifted his own to do the same. They were rather large gashes and they bled profusely. He looked up at Draco “You do know I don’t really know how this all…”

“Of course, Harry. I can do the speaking first, that way you simply repeat everything I say to set it in oath. If you don’t agree with one of the terms I lay out or the wording of it you can change it.” Draco had his hand hovering in front of him now. “All that matters is that we both say the same words to secure them in the oath. Breaking a blood-oath will kill you, are you ready?”

Harry grasped Dracos bleeding hand in his and their fresh wounds touched, sending stinging pain down Harrys arm. They held their hands between them as if there were an invisible table underneath their elbows that they were about to arm wrestle on. He ogled at the sizzling sound coming from their joined hands but nevertheless told Draco to start.

Draco began with the simple and obvious parts of the oath, the first part being not revealing the oath unless acting in the interest of another part of it, then there was protecting him and his family and acting in the best interest of each others general well being. Each time Harry would repeat a sentence, he felt as if something hot was dripping… _through_ his arm, settling itself in the marrow of his bones, and he knew Draco felt it too.

It became a little finicky when they got into details about wording but the real challenge was establishing Dracos ‘prisoner of war’ terms. Eventually they settled on a wording similar to that of the first oath rule (not revealing the oaths presence unless necessary). Basically, -and Harry was quite happy with this- Draco would have to do everything Harry told him to so long as it: 1. Did not conflict with any other parts of the oath (Harry can’t ask him to jump off Hogwarts highest Tower) and 2. Could be justified as ‘not totally unrelated to the oath’ (so Harry couldn’t ask him to stand in the middle of the Great Hall and moon every single Hogwarts student eating dinner). They had been standing there for so long that Harrys arm began to feel numb by the time Draco added the oaths last seal of words.

As their bloodied hands separated, Harry felt no bone chilling jolt run down his spine or mind-numbing pain blast his head, instead, a cooling sensation drifted across his palm as it separated from Dracos and when he looked at where the cut should have been he saw only browned blood.

Seeing his brief surprise Draco said, “It wouldn’t be very good blood magic if the wounds stayed open and the magic seeped out would it?”

After Harry _Scourgified_ the dried blood from their palms, Draco gestured for Harry to follow him and Harry did. The towering piles were bulging with strange magical objects and odd devices just as they had been last time: Yelling Yoyos, singing toilet paper, hats with teeth and brooms that whizzed about recklessly. Harry had to duck twice to avoid shooting objects and almost stepped in a puddle of fluorescent green liquid.

He was so absorbed in dodging objects at the moment Draco stopped that Draco had to grab his arm “Harry, Merlin, stop… it’s here.”

Harry spun around “ _What’s_ here?” they were standing in front of an ebony cabinet and for a split second Harry thought it was the cupboard in which he had hidden the Princes book but quickly recognised it instead as the broken vanishing cabinet. “That? The broken vanishing cabinet?”

“It won’t be broken for long, I’m mending it”

“Why?”

Draco faced Harry and bit his lip, looking hesitant. He lifted his hand and looked at his clean palm for a moment, obviously reminding himself of his protection. He looked up “It has a twin,” he began with an expression that seemed to be an odd combination of anxiety and egotistical pride “in Borgin and Burkes, which is a shop in Kno-“

“I know Borgin and Burkes” Harry cut in, Dracos eyebrows rose slightly and Harry couldn’t help but feel satisfied with himself.

“Well, anyway, they make a kind of passage between them. Montague told me that when he was stuck in this one, he was trapped in limbo but sometimes he could hear what was going on here, and sometimes what was going on in the shop, as if the cabinet’s space was traveling between them, but he couldn’t make anyone hear him. In the end, he managed to Apparate out, even though he’d never passed his test. He nearly died doing it. Everyone thought it was a really good story, but I was the only one who realized what it meant — even Borgin didn’t know — I was the one who realized there could be a way into Hogwarts through the cabinets if I fixed this one.”

Harry quickly understood “You’re going to use it to smuggle death eaters in.”

Draco nodded and Harry had a lot of questions very suddenly “So that you can kill me?”

“No.”

“So that you can kill Dumbledore.”

Draco nodded.

Harry was extroadinarily impressed. The impenetrable fortress of Hogwarts, safest place to hide anything, cracked by someone who Harry had until this very moment considered to be a presumptuous idiot.

“You figured this out on your own… which would have taken a lot of time and effort…” Harry began to pace around, Draco watching him nervously “and you obviously aren’t that keen on Voldemort’s cause now” Draco flinched “… so he told you to find a way to kill Dumbledore and do it or else?”

“Yes.” Draco replied, “As you may have noticed, my previous attempts were unsuccessful, instead I almost killed Weasley and that Bell girl.” Everything was starting to fall into place. _That’s_ why Harry sometimes couldn’t find him on the Marauders Map, _that’s_ why Crabbe and Goyle had been hovering about the seventh floor, standing guard…

“Where are Crabbe and Goyle?”

“They’re sick, how they never seem to be sick without one another only Merlin knows… although I have my suspicions. I couldn’t just stop the work, it’s almost done, so I risked coming up alone this _one_ time…” Harry couldn’t help but laugh and let the word _fate_ play on the tip of his tongue.

Something about Draco seemed easier… like maybe his heart was sitting a little lighter in his chest than it had in a long time.

“Well Draco, my prisoner” Harry smirked and Draco rolled his eyes “I hereby order you…” Harry trailed off. He was about to say something along the lines of “to come with me to Dumbledore and tell him everything” but he realised that he should probably try to get some fun out of this oath before things began to really start happening so he said “to thank me profusely for rescuing you.”

Draco gave an exasperated sigh “Harry, that has nothing to do with the oath!”

“Well now that’s just not true Draco, it’s not against any part of the oath, and it certainly isn’t unrelated to it, so I’d like a thank-you.” Dracos eyebrows rose yet again and Harrys smirk widened. He was clearly feeling the effects of the oath and loosing his battle to maintain insubordination.

The urge to comply obviously took over and Draco muttered a quiet but sincere “Thanks” through pursed lips. Harry enjoyed it far too much to let that be enough though.

He wasn’t quite sure what he had in mind when he said: “Pfft! You call that a thank-you? I demand a proper-” because before Harry could say any more he saw his eyes widen wildly and Draco lurched forward, throwing his arms around Harry and suddenly white-blonde hair was tickling his cheek and neck. He stumbled and would have fallen had it not been for Dracos hold. It took him a moment of intense confusion and surprise before he processed that he was receiving a hug. A _hug._

_An actual hug_.

_“Thank-you_ Harry, thank-you, okay? _Merlin!”_ Harrys brain had short-circuited to the point where he could only twitch slightly and move his jaw open and closed repeatedly. Draco released him.

Draco was flushed and made a show of wiping the front of his robes and grimacing “Don’t loop hole me again, thanks”. He looked at Harry, whose face was the exact same shade as the Gryffindor tie that hung beneath it, “Did I break a bone? Calm down Harry, I mean, you asked for a proper thank-you…”

Harry managed to find himself somewhat and gulped. “So that’s- _that’s_ how you normally thank people? _YOU_ thank people with affectionate Hermione-like _hugs_?!”

He saw Dracos jaw muscles tense and heard his teeth grind “If you tell a single soul that I had to hug-”

“NO! God! Let’s just- I mean- god- lets just go.” he stuck his nose in the air, spun on his heal and began walking down the nearest alleyway.

“Scar-head, the doors aren’t that way”

Harry said nothing and turned around, huffing as he passed Draco who watched him with incredulity as he made his way down a different alleyway.

“Harry.” Draco said

“I’m going the wrong way again aren’t I.”

“Yep.” Harry turned around and went to stand near Draco who watched him, half terrifically amused and half quizzical. Harry could feel the heat radiating from his every facial pore. “How about you just follow me, alright? Can you do that, Harry?” he said, nodding patronizingly.

Harry huffed again, crossed his arms and avoided eye contact profusely “Hurry up!” Draco chuckled and held out his hand to which Harry ogled and then practically screeched, “I’m not going to hold it if that’s what y-!”

“ _Harry, I- just- want- my- wand._ ”

“Oh.” Harry gulped, then fumbled for Dracos wand and returned it. As soon as Draco had turned around and began sliding his wand into a strap around his arm Harry smacked himself in the forehead multiple times. Had Draco legilimensed Harry at that moment he would have heard nothing but a thousand screams.

He’s had his embarrassing moments, but none had ever stretched on for as long as the series of mortifications that just befell him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just going to post what i have :) no point keeping it all for myself. I have around 17,000 cumulative (including what is already posted) words of this fic written and I will post them all. Sorry I let down the people who were waiting for more in early 2016!
> 
> I kind of got it in my head that this was a really really bad fic and finding the file on my computer again after two years I've read it and its actually pretty good I probably shouldn't have sold myself so short. I have some issues with pacing and long sentences though. Also there are some grammar problems and I can't convince anyone to proof read for me. It's a bit silly haha getting stuck in a room together and then making an oath but oh well :) i swear the cliches are deliberate and ironic...
> 
> Other than that I will post the rest in mostly short chapters (this one's the longest I think) to make myself feel like its longer than it is and because I like them broken up that way.
> 
> Enjoy! Let this Inspire you, hopefully! Feel free to take off from where I left off and write the rest if anyone so wishes


	7. Observed over Half-Moon Spectacles

Once they had made it out of the Room of Requirement Harry began to regain some semblance of dignity. “We should tell Dumbledore everything you told me about the vanishing cabinets, and, you know, about Voldemorts’ plans” he said.

“Please, just for my peace of mind, will you stop saying his name?” Draco asked, with surprising politeness. Harry found himself rolling his eyes but nevertheless silently agreeing to cut him some slack.

He followed Harry to the headmasters’ office where he gawked at Harry the entire time he stood at the gargoyle uttering lolly after lolly until at “Pepper Imp” it came alive and hopped aside. He opened his mouth to say something but Harry cut him off before he could start, “He likes sweets” he said, and shrugged.

Upon reaching the top of the stairs Harry realised they had not caught Dumbledore alone. He motioned for Draco to stay quiet and moved closer to the massive wooden doors. He just barely heard the angry voice of one oily potionmaster before it stopped abruptly. Draco had apparently heard it too and his eyes widened in panic… if Snape were to see Draco here with Harry he would relay the information over…

He knew he had only seconds before the doors were opened and Dracos presence was discovered, There was no time for a plan, no time to run and certainly no time to try and tell Draco where or how to hide so he snatched out his invisibility cloak with one hand and his wand with the other and in what he imagined to be a fantastically impressive move, simultaneously cast a _petrificus totalus_ and threw the cloak over Draco. There was a thump at the exact same moment the headmasters’ doors were thrown open and a black robe billowed in the rush of air.

Snapes mouth curled and his eyes shrunk as they landed on Harry but it wasn’t he who spoke.

“Harry, perhaps you should return at a later time.” Said a pleasant, calm voice from inside the office.

Harry subtly caught his breath and calmed his racing heart before answering. “This is quite important Professor Dumbledore.” he replied, still looking at Snape whose glare was deeply gratifying. Snape looked once behind him at Dumbledore and then with a whoosh, passed Harry and disappeared down the stairs.

Harry glanced involuntarily at the spot where Draco lay and then looked at Dumbledore, who said, “What brings you, my boy?” and gestured for Harry to come in.

“Err…” Harry said stupidly. He hesitated by the door and ran his eyes over the spot where Draco lay again. It had now occurred to Harry that this particular scene was going to be very difficult to explain.

Dumbledore waited patiently while he bent down and felt for the cloak, finding it and lifting it to reveal Draco, still panic eyed and stiff as a plank.

Dumbledore glanced at Draco and stood from his chair, looking at Harry over his half-moon spectacles “Harry,” he said, taking the tone of professional outrage “I should ask that you refrain from petrifying students who wait outside my office!”

“Sir, we came together.” At that, Dumbledores eyebrows met and he sat back down with a plop. He looked perplexedly between both boys for a time. It was one of those rare moments in which Dumbledore obviously had some trouble understanding the situation.

“I had to petrify him so that-”

“So that he would not be seen by Professor Snape, yes, very quick thinking indeed, Harry.” Dumbledore cut him off. “What I am truly curious about is why you needed him hidden from Snape at all… and of course why you’ve both come in the first place.” He pointed his wand at Draco who briefly flopped, then shot up and threw Harry an indignant look. He thought Draco might be furious but an expression that seemed to be begrudging acceptance followed his moment of indignation.

Dumbledore gestured for them both to come in once again and as they sat, offered them a bowl of sherbet lemons. Draco watched Harry take one and as soon as Harry had popped one in his mouth, Draco took two and shoved both in his own gob. “Whad-re dese?” he asked.

“They are a kind of muggle sweet.” Dumbledore replied and Dracos face contorted violently. Harry found it difficult to supress his satisfaction but Dumbledores’ expression of patient expectance quickly snapped him out of it.

“Sir,” Harry began, “Draco wants to join us. I told him you could protect him and his family.” Harry stole a peek at Draco again who had swallowed both lemon sherbets and now looked quite nervous. He was staring at Dumbledore in a fashion similar to that of a rabbit caught in the headlights of a truck; terror-stricken and suddenly unconfident.

Dumbledores’ expression turned unreadable and he shifted his attention towards Draco who was growing pale, “Draco, how did you come to this decision?”

“It’s a long story.” He replied shakily while having trouble looking Dumbledore, the man he meant to kill, in the eyes.

“And I should like to hear all of it,” said Dumbledore “you may start from the beginning.”

So Harry and Draco took turns explaining what had occurred not an hour previous in the Room of Requirement. Dumbledore maintained an expression of perplexed concern and became very interested indeed when they started to explain the blood-oath. He asked them to explain every aspect of it and its wording in great detail. Draco and Harry told him everything, save the highly unnecessary anecdotes of certain embarrassing moments.

After they had finished Dumbledore placed his fingertips together and sat pensive and deep in thought for long enough that Harry began to play with the hem of his robe sleeve.

“Before I say anything else, I would like to remind you of the foolishness of participating in blood-oaths at such a young age and without the proper knowledge. Do not ever do this again.” They nodded. “Now, Harry, I should like to speak with Draco alone. I'm afraid you’ve missed dinner so if you could return to your common room, I’m sure you have a lot of homework.” It was true; Harry did have a lot of homework, “and remember the words of your oath,” he added with great weight “ _do not break them._ ”

Draco seemed much calmer but still uncomfortable and Harry had the sudden urge to comfort him. He laid a hand on Dracos shoulder and squeezed lightly then stood and walked to the heavy wooden doors. He felt eyes on his back and glanced behind him; Draco and Dumbledore were both watching him leave. Draco nodded him a silent _farewell_ but Dumbledore had taken his half-moon spectacles off completely and was looking between both boys overwhelmed with curiosity.

Harry turned and left.


	8. Fate Starves

Harry arrived in the common room to find Ron and Lavender entangled and Hermione nowhere in sight so he was not immediately bombarded with questions of his whereabouts. He finished all his weekend homework while sitting in his four-poster and went to sleep early and again without dinner.

The next morning he woke ravenous and almost sprinted his way to the Great Hall. Ron had just taken a seat beside him as he finished buttering a piece of toast when he felt a tap at his shoulder. He turned to find Jimmy Peakes holding out a scroll of parchment.

“Whad’s it say?” Ron asked through a mouthful of bacon and toast.

“It’s from Dumbledore, he wants me to go to his office.”

Ron stared at him “Blimey,” he whispered “you don’t reckon… he hasn’t found…?”

“No, no. We’ll talk about it later Ron.” Said Harry, jumping to his feet. He planned to share the recent events with Ron and Hermione when the appropriate time presented itself, but now was not that time.

He grabbed his piece of toast and took one last wistful look at the mountains of breakfast food before briskly making his way out of the Great Hall and to the third floor corridor. It was starting to seem like what fate was really up to was starving him at every opportunity.

Harry licked the last of the crumbs off his fingers before entering the headmasters’ office. Draco was sitting opposite Dumbledore who was sat at his desk. It was as if they had not moved from whence Harry last saw them, which brought about the amusing mental image that they had just sat there for an entire night, in the same way cartoons would on TV when Dudley pressed pause.

He took a seat and once again Dumbledore seemed to be overwhelmingly perplexed, glasses almost falling off the tip of his nose and blue eyes that were so bright with curiosity Harry was sure they would glow in the dark.

“Thank-you for coming, Harry.” Dumbledore started as Harry took a seat “Myself and Draco both thought it best that you stay informed on the safety and whereabouts of the Malfoys. It would normally be unnecessary and in fact unsafe for both parties but special circumstances surround your blood-oath. Narcissa Malfoy has been moved to 12 Grimmauld place and is currently safe and with members of the Order.” Harry cringed at the thought of a Narcissa Malfoy in Grimmauld “She came peacefully.” The headmaster continued, “As for Lucius, he is safe in Azkaban for now but I must begin preparing plans to remove him as soon as possible.” Dumbledore gave both boys a particularly stern look “You have made a commitment beyond what you could ever imagine. Although you may have thought you understood your actions fully, you did not. You are bound to each other in such a way that I fear for both of your safeties.”

Dumbledore seemed very far away suddenly and Harry was just about to ask him what he meant when Dumbledore directed all his attention straight at him. “Harry, I am giving you a task you may find difficult, I expect you will not question me.” Harry nodded, eager to know Dumbledore’s request. “Because of your link, the only way to ensure that you are both making informed and safe decisions is for both of you to have the same insight. Harry, this means Draco must know everything you can tell him; your every encounter with Voldemort since your first year, your visions, our lessons, the order...”

Harry felt like he was listening to Dumbledore’s words through an old radio. It was true; Harry was going to find that difficult but not just because it was Draco he was going to have to share with. “Not to seem rude professor but… wouldn’t it be better if you did that? I don’t exactly know everything about the Order…”

“He must know exactly what _you_ know, no more, no less.” Dumbledore said, “And Harry,” he added, “You _must_ tell him of your prophecy.”

At the thought of the prophecy Harry was filled with dread. Draco seemed bemused and looked between them vaguely while Harrys face grew pallid.

Dumbledore observed his apparent plummet. “It’s alright, you can trust him now of course, although… I gather you do already…”

Harry said nothing and looked at the table in front of him. Despite everything, Draco was still very high on Harrys’ annoying-gits list and he was worried what Draco would say when he told him the prophecy.

It took him a moment to realise Dumbledore was speaking again “… and I want it to be done today, so I have organised for your excusal of any co-curricular activities and… detentions” he looked straight at Harry “just for today. You will of course, have to make up any missed time.” There was Harrys one respite found and lost.

“Ah, yes and I must remind you, a secure place is preferable for your conversations and obviously your common rooms are not an option, I must urge you to use a certain room along the seventh floor corridor.”

Harry nodded and saw Draco do the same.    

“You may leave.” Dumbledore said and they did.

 

-

  

They entered the hallway from Dumbledores’ office and turned to watch the gargoyle jump back into place. They stood awkwardly for a moment, Draco biting his lip and glancing between Harry and the floor whilst Harry stood pensively.

The noise of students gave Harrys’ brain a shove and he scanned the hallway.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea if we’re seen walking around shoulder to shoulder” he said. To that, Draco nodded “but I’m starved,” Harry continued “I haven’t had a proper meal in days and I'm not waiting till lunch. Meet me in the dungeons, by the fruit painting. Do you know it?”

“Firstly, of course I know it, every Slytherin knows the dungeons like the handle of their wand. Secondly, you can’t eat that fruit Harry, it’s a painting…”

Harry pursed his lips, perhaps to stop himself from smiling. “Half an hour.” He said.

Draco raised an eyebrow but did not question him. Just then the doors at the end of the hallway were opened and students entered and with that the two boys hastily parted.

Harry thought it best to tell someone of his whereabouts before his slightly paranoid friends decided to have him bound in chains forever. He hurried off to the Gryffindor tower and only began thinking about what he’d actually tell them once he was staring the Fat Lady in the face.

“Well?” she said impatiently.

“Hold on, will you?” Harry retorted. The Fat Lady continued to grumble about children forgetting things like goldfish while Harry came to the decision that he would simply tell Hermione, Ron and Ginny the truth for once.

“Henbane.” Said Harry and although she grumbled about wasted time she swung forward nevertheless. Harry entered to find the common room mostly empty save for Hermione and Ginny reading at one end of the room and Ron and Lavender canoodling at the other. He chose to ignore the latter for the time being.

Hermione and Ginny looked up as he sat down. “Hey!” said Ginny “I heard you rushed off during breakfast after a letter from Dumbledore.”

“I did. I’ll tell you everything but… not here.”

“Harry, there’s literally only five people here, two of which are too involved in exchanging saliva to even notice your arrival, so just talk.” Hermione remarked quite snappily and closed her book with a smack. She sounded on edge -as she often did now- so Harry resolved to simply lower his voice. Lavender was the only person he didn’t want over hearing him and Hermione was right, she obviously wasn’t interested in listening anyway.

Harry leaned in, “Well it’s a long story,” He began and both girls leaned in too.

He told them about his trip to the seventh floor intending a DA meeting and that once there he decided instead to pick up a book he had hid in there earlier (Hermione knew that he meant the Prince’s book but Ginny just nodded). He had barely started recounting his run in with Draco when he felt a horrible knot clench his gut.

The knot tightened rapidly and Harry choked on his words. His vision swam, his eyes stung and he felt as though someone were swishing the marrow of his bones. This sudden onset of physical maladies was nothing though, in comparison to the sense of dread that washed through him, but worse still, he felt an ice cold steel stop his heart. It was as horrendous as a dementors kiss and nothing reminded him more deeply of that moment three years ago.

He couldn’t make sense of what was happening and panic struck. He scrabbled at his chest hysterically and choked.

This lasted no more than a few seconds or so, but that is a long time for a heart to stop. When his gut unknotted and his vision stopped swimming, when the dread rolled away like great tumbling boulders and when his heart finally burst into action again, Harry came to.

He sat in shock for a moment and it was a time before he realised he had not choked nor had he panicked or scrabbled at his chest: he was sitting perfectly still and had not moved an inch.

“Harry? Harry, are you alright?” Hermione was saying, “My god your lips are blue!” then Ginny gave him a little shake.

It somehow felt like a lifetime had passed since he last felt warm blood pumping through him and he was deeply grateful for its return. He wasn’t sure what had just rolled through him but he knew that it had brought him to the brink of something ceaseless. It didn’t take him long to realise that it had to do with the Blood-oath. He hadn’t thought that he would be breaking it by telling Hermione and Ginny. He hadn’t considered the fact that they were not (at least not currently) associated to the oaths goals.

Harry had almost died. He saw now why Dumbledore had warned them so gravely of the risks he and Draco were now involved in and felt slightly embarrassed at his own stupidity.

He had to think quickly. If only he were as good at creating spur of the moment excuses as he was at spectacular shows of reflex (namely, the petrifying and cloaking of Draco the previous night).

“I’m fine” he spluttered “It’s- It’s this flu going around, someone should really talk to Pomfrey about it.” Ginny and Hermione looked at each other and Harry could sense their disbelief. “Anyway!” he said “back to the story…”

“You saw Draco in the room of requirement…” Ginny prompted.

“Ah! Yes! But… the thing was that it wasn’t Draco at all!” Both girls looked at each other again and were very confused now. “See, it was actually- just a strange bird!” Harry almost pursed his own lips at the transparency of his lie.

“Harry…” Hermione said cautiously, but Harry didn’t let her continue.

“You’re right.” Harry tried to sound resigned and solemn “I’m just avoiding the truth because Dumbledore told me I shouldn’t share this with anyone…” At that, Hermione raised an eyebrow and Ginny leaned in closer. “It turns out that Draco hasn’t been doing very well in potions, in fact, he’s failing. And so for whatever reason, Dumbledore decided I’d have to be the one to give him remedial potions.”

Ginny’s jaw dropped but Hermione looked perplexed and said “well, I suppose that makes sense… all the professors have he-who-must-not-be-named business to deal with… and,” She added wistfully “you _are_ technically topping the potions class after all...”

Harry made an effort to look frustrated and melancholy, which wasn’t difficult considering he really was being forced to spend time with the insufferable twit.

“That’s awful! But hilarious that Malfoy is failing… but awful for you, Harry!” said Ginny

“That’s what you get for using that dreadful book Harry, speaking of which, did you end up getting it back?” Hermione asked, then she glanced at Ginny and added “Your… dreadful… potions textbook I meant.”

Ginny raised an eyebrow at that but was obviously too chuffed with knowledge of Draco’s suffering to car too much. Harry had almost completely forgotten about the princes book… if he was going to keep this remedial studies teacher façade up then he would need to actually stay at the top of the class… he hadn’t realised until now because he’d managed to weasel his way out of all his recent potions classes.

“Err, no, I was distracted.” He answered.

Hermione pursed her lips and went back to reading.

“It’d be fantastic to go spreading this around but… you know, please don’t.” Harry added (because if Draco found out he’d skin Harry alive). Hermione nodded without looking up from her book but Ginny gave Harry a petulant look. He responded with a look of silent pleading to which Ginny became resigned. He quite enjoyed the way they could communicate without words.

He glanced up at the great clock on the wall absent-mindedly and then shot up from his chair. It had been just over half an hour since he told Draco to meet him… in half an hour.

“Harry?” Ginny said

He looked at the girls and realised perhaps his sudden move was slightly alarming “Just realised I’m late for something.” he said vaguely and then bounded from the common room all the way to the dungeons.

-

By the time he arrived at the portrait of fruit he was huffing and puffing. Draco stood grinding his teeth and looking impatient.

“You’re late.” He said bluntly.

“Yes,” Harry huffed “Sorry.” He took a second to catch his breath.

“Well are you going to tell me why it was imperative that we satisfy our hunger by standing near a painting of fruit?”

Harry said nothing but gave a smirk and then pushed past him to tickle the pear, which squirmed, wiggled and giggled itself into a big green door handle. Harry took a peek at Draco whose eyes had gone very large and round, then opened the door. He and Draco were but two steps into the massive room when Harry was approached by a very excited Dobby.

“It is Harry Potter sir! Dobby is very happy Harry Potter has come to visit him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's all i've written!!!


End file.
